Spring at Misselthwait
by SRV42
Summary: This is one I'd really like to continue... not a lot of S.G. stories out there.


The night of my arrival back home was like the morning that spring had first come to Misselthwait for me. My heart pounded in my chest, and daybreak couldn't be further off. I stepped from the train, grasping the handle of my small suitcase. Even as my head told me that the train's late arrival time would make it impossible for my loved ones to make it to the station to fetch me, my heart still half-hoped that Colin or even Mrs. Medlock would be present to greet me. Alas, the station was dark, empty and drab, reminiscent of my first arrival at the very same station.

I stepped onto the deserted platform, and made my way into the small station. The stationmaster was organizing the space behind the ticket window, ready to close for the night.

"Sir, could you tell me the time?" I asked sweetly.

"Eleven O'Clock, Miss. Do you have a means to get to your destination? I could call a handsome cab." Eleven O'Clock! Three hours past my scheduled arrival time. I considered my options for a moment.

"Yes, thank you," I conceded. "I'd best find an alternate route home. The late hour has likely discouraged my family from remaining here." The stationmaster nodded.

"Very well, Miss," he answered.

"Handsome cab, at your service," called a voice from behind me. My face lit up when I saw who it was.

"Colin!" I shouted, and embraced him heartily. The stationmaster smiled vaguely, and replaced the telephone mouthpiece that he had picked up to make the call. "How did you know? You didn't wait here the entire time. I'm so late--" Colin laughed, his eyes lighting up as they always used to.

"If you'd stop jabbering on like a magpie for a moment, I'll tell you," he teased, tapping my nose with his index finger. Despite the 10 years that had passed since we had laughed and played as children, I became a little girl again, teasing my cousin and chattering on. A few minutes later, we were on our way to Misselthwait.

I opened my eyes to bright sunlight, and listened as a chorus of twittering birds discussed the passing of the season. I remembered my joy years ago at seeing the new spring as it touched my secret garden. Grinning at the memory, I sprang out of bed and dressed in a blue and white gown, pulling my unruly hair up on top of my head. I dashed downstairs and out the back door of the mansion. My first breath was filled will the scent of soil and flower petals. I grinned, an expression that used to be foreign to me, and ran toward the gardens.

The door still hid behind a curtain of greenery, contributing to its strong aura of magic. I took a deep breath as I pushed against it.

Here is where Colin took his first steps, I thought. And here, here is where I first pulled the weeds from strangling the flowers. And where the robin had first shown me…

My thought process stopped when I saw the figure who was standing by the door of the garden. His tousled brown hair framed a grinning face, but it was the eyes I recognized most of all.

"Dickon!"

"I'd 'eard you were back, Miss Mary," the shine in his eyes unmistakably Dickon. They held a mixture of mischief, wisdom, and something indescribable. In a few strides, he was at my side, then had wrapped me in a warm hug that smelled of the wind and early morning. The magic of the moor still surrounded him; a second soul that allowed him to converse with the animals and know all of my secrets. During all my years at the university, I had thought fondly of Dickon. He hadn't the patience or the disposition to stay inside and write to me, but I had kept apprised of his goings on from the long letters that Colin would write me.

Soon after the 'secret garden' had been discovered, my uncle Craven had founded a school of sorts for the three of us. He had brought in a real professor from the city, and for room, board, and a generous monthly salary, the man taught us everything from arithmetic to history. Colin took an equal liking to science and latin, and I excelled in English. Dickon, however, never seemed as interested in the studies themselves as in the people who were involved in these classes. He calmly analyzed us all, grinning that secretive smile of his. Our wonderful studies were conducted outside in the gardens, much to our mutual delight. There, surrounded by the living, breathing plants that had transformed us all, we learned what we could.

All too soon, our childhood had ended, and I had chosen to go to the university to pursue a degree in English Literature. Colin had elected to stay at home, with his father, while continuing to learn from the old professor. Dickon had 'graduated,' so to speak, to the moor once again, and was an acting veterinarian when occasion called for it. The children in the town nearby would bring their pets, huddled in their arms, to Dickon for doctoring. By helping with animals on the farms nearby, he was able to earn enough to build himself a small cottage on the moor, and thus no longer be a burden to his mother, who had her fair share of mouths to feed.

While we had been classmates at Misselthwait, a short romance developed between Dickon and I. Colin, however, had been incomprehensibly jealous, and things between us were ended before they had begun. We remained close friends, however, even despite the lack of proper communication between us. Every holiday from school was as if no time had passed at all.

This seemed no different; the time when I was home to stay. Dickon led me, grinning, to the small clearing amidst the flowers, where we found seats on the grass and chattered away about everything that had changed in the past year. I could hear the descendents of my friend, the robin, chirping happily above us. I watched, never ceasing to be amazed, as a timid chipmunk skitted his way toward Dickon and then settled itself on his knee. I grinned, and Dickon stopped in the middle of his story about how Martha had met a beau in February, as he realized that I had stopped focusing.

"I'm sorry," I laughed, "I had almost forgotten about what a charmer you are." Dickon grinned with his eyes, lightly stroking the small creature's back.

"Oh a chaarmer, am I, Miss Mary?" His thick accent made me giggle.

"Only in certain company," I teased. It was amazing how much I had missed him. It was as if a part of my self had been missing until I stepped foot in Misselthwait once again.


End file.
